La Verdad
by CordeliaHalliwell
Summary: Who could imagine that one cruel, careless moment would lead to such a nightmare? No one, but they should have guessed that a lifetime of cruel, careless moments might.
1. Prologue: Just Another Story

**Title: La Verdad**

**Author: CordeliaHalliwell**

**A.N: So... this is my first Glee fiction, be gentle. **

**Rating: M**

**Warnings: Mentions of self harm. **

**Summary: Who knew that one careless, cruel mome****nt could lead to such a nightmare. No one. But they should have know that a lifetime of cruel, careless moments might. **

**Prologue: Just another Story**

"Mama," Santana entered the kitchen and smiled at her mother despite the early hour. For the first time in a long time her mother didn't smile back.

Her father was seated at the table holding the newspaper, quietly he spoke, "Mijita…"

Santana cocked her head and fought down the dread that threatened to rise up, "Papi?"

Her mother pulled out one of the chairs, "Sit down mija."

Santana sat, "Mama me estás asustando."

"Lo siento hija." Her mother sat down next to her. "Una de tus amigas… pues…" She handed Santana the newspaper and the Cheerio smoothed it out. Staring at her from the front page was a giant smiling picture of Rachel Berry. She almost snorted and snapped at her parents but then the headline caught her eyes. In big bold letters the newspaper proclaimed **Local Teen Takes Own Life**. Santana stared dumbly at the paper before skimming the paper, catching words like "Talented, driven, outcast." She sat quietly for a moment before standing abruptly and storming from the kitchen.

She fled to her room and shut the door but her sanctuary was not vacant as it normally would have been. The girls from Glee plus Kurt where spread about her room in various stages of sleep. She sat down heavily on the bed and surveyed her friends noting the missing face. She let out a painful gasp as her part in yesterday came crashing down.

"_I've never been to a sleep over!" Rachel had sounded so excited. _

_Kurt raised a perfectly plucked eyebrow and asked snidely, "What makes you think you're invited?" _

_Santana had seeing the flicker of something in Rachel's eyes, but it had been so brief that she had convinced herself it was a trick of the light. _

_In a more subdued voice Rachel had tried, "But I thought it was for the glee girls."_

_Santana, who's day had been crap, eagerly took out her current mood on the girl, "For the one's I like." The second flicker in her eyes was definitely not a trick of the light, but they had shuttered so quickly again that no one but Santana saw it. Rachel had drawn herself up and cast a look over the girls before turning and leaving the choir room. The girls plus Kurt shared a light laugh, Rachel's non reaction always allowed for their cutting remarks to seem less cruel; they couldn't have been that bad if Rachel never reacted. _

Santana felt like throwing up. Had she ever actually thought that? She gripped at the paper in her hands and felt tears well. She and everyone at McKinley, everyone who had ever tortured Rachel had blood on their hands.

"Santana?" The latina looked around, someone was calling her name but none of her friends were awake.

* * *

Spanish Translation

Mama me estás asustando- Mom you are scaring me.

Lo siento hija- I sorry daughter

Una de tus amigas… pues- One of your friends... well...

* * *

A.N2: So the next chapter will be longer.


	2. Chapter One: Face Down

A.N: Thank you to all of you who reviewed.

Chapter One: Face Down

"Santana?" Someone was shaking her. Santana sat up abruptly and nearly clobbered her mom in the chin. Santana glared up at her mother though sleep filled eyes and noticed for the first time the throbbing in her head.

"What mama?" Santana rubbed at her face.

"You were crying mija." Her mother peered down at her, the picture of motherly concern.

Santana opened her mouth to deny such a thing but was stopped short as the details of her dream hammered back into her mind. Her eyes welled and her headache double in intensity.

Her mother extended her hand and spoke, "Come mija." Santana stumbled out of bed and picked her way through her friends who were sprawled out on her floor. Her mother led her silently through the house and sat her down in the kitchen. Her mother threw open the fridge door and pulled out the milk and then dumped some in the saucepan on the stove.

Santana smiled in spite of sadness that still pressed down on her chest, her mother's solution to everything was a glass of leche and a talk. After a few minutes the milk was steaming as her mother placed a mug in front of her.

She patted Santana's hand and spoke, "Why were you crying mija?"

Santana sipped at the milk and then replied, "I had a nightmare mama."

"It must have been awful." Her mother squeezed her hand.

"One of my friends died…" Santana trailed off and winced, Rachel wasn't her friend, at least not according to Santana.

"Aye mija, Brittany?" Her mother asked.

Santana shook her head, "She actually isn't my friend, she's just a girl from glee."

Her mother looked confused, "One of the girl's staying the night?"

Santana suddenly couldn't meet her mom's eyes, "We didn't invite her…"

Her mother's hand smacked her own hand lightly, "Santana Isabella! That is an ugly thing to do!"

Santana flinched and looked up briefly, "I know mama, it was wrong."

Her mother demanded, "This girl, is she cruel?"

Santana winced and shook her head, "No mami."

"Then why wouldn't you invite her?" Her mother sounded disappointed.

Santana sighed, "She's not popular Mami, she had a giant target painted on her and we just…"

Her mother looked sad now, "She has a target on her back and so you use it? Are you cruel to this girl Santana?"

Santana's instinct was to deny it, to insist that she was never anything but nice to Rachel and yet, "Si Mami." She couldn't lie to her mother, not after spending the better part of high school partaking in everyone's favorite sport, spear the Berry.

Quietly her mother asked, "And in your dream, this girl died? How?"

Santana nearly choked on the words, "She k… She killed herself."

Her mother drew in a deep breath and crossed herself, "Madre de Dios!"

Santana shrugged, "I don't even know why I dreamed it."

Her mother tutted, "Pfft! I do! You feel guilty, and you should."

"Eres mi Madre!" Santana was indignant, "You're supposed to be on my side."

Her mother scowled, "Mija, I love you enough not to lie to you."

"I know mami." She shook her head, "I am feeling guilty I guess." She was quiet for a moment, "She looked hurt mama. No one else noticed but she looked hurt."

Her mother replied gently, "She must have been. Excluding her was mean and cruel, and apparently every one of you took part in doing so."

Santana breathed out an irritated growl, "It doesn't bother her! She never cries, she is never mean back, she just takes it with her head held high and her chest puffed out."

Her mother looked even more upset, "Mija, have you ever considered what would happen if she did break down?" She stood and declared, "You should go check on this girl Santana."

"What? Why?" Santana stood and gaped at her mother.

Mrs. Lopez looked deadly serious as she replied, "Escucha tu sueños porque en los sueños siempre óyemos la verdad."

Santana looked stunned, "You don't think she would actually…?"

Her mother replied, "I think you had that dream for a reason." Santana nodded and toed on her flip flops. Her mom called out to her, "Santana!" The Cheerio turned and thanked God that she had good reflexes as her mother chucked her keys at her, "Take the car."

* * *

Santana was halfway to Rachel's when she realized she didn't even have the little Diva's phone number. She knew where she lived, mostly because she had taken part in egging the girl's house on at least one occasion, but she didn't have her number. She racked her brain, trying to remember if any of the glee kids that had spent the night would have Rachel's number and came up blank. As she was careening around a corner she thought of someone who might have her number.

She hit her phone and pressed 23 on speed dial.

"'Lo?"

"Finn!"

"Who dis?"

"It's Santana."

"Santana…? It's like one in the morning?"

"I know Finn, I need a favor."

"What kinda favor?"

"I need Berry's phone number."

"Why?"

"Because!"

"No…"

"What? Why the hell not?"

"I'm not giving you her number just so you can crank call her."

"I'm not going to crank call her! Look Hudson, just give me her number!"

"Why do you need it?"

"…"

"…"

"…"

"Santana?"

"Look Finn, it's really important ok, just… just give me her number."

"…555-0519"

"Thank you."

Santana jammed her thumb hard into the end button and quickly dialed Rachel's number manually. It rang three times and then, "You've reached Rachel Berry, I can't come to the phone right now but please leave your name, number, and a short message after the beep and I will get back to you as soon as I am able. Thank you for calling and have a nice day."

There was a beep and then Santana was talking, "Rachel! It's Santana. Look when you get this call me back. I'm on my way to your house so call me back and save me the trip." She flipped the phone closed and pressed on the gas, her mother's words echoing in her ears.

She was pretty sure it was some kind record, how fast she had gotten to Rachel's. She took in the house and noted that there was only Rachel's blue Prius in the driveway. She parked haphazardly behind Rachel's car and made her way to the front door. The house itself was relatively dark save for the porch light and a single lit bedroom on the second floor. Santana pressed the doorbell repeatedly and listened as it rang. She shifted impatiently and looked at her watch. It had been nearly forty five minutes since she had woken from her dream. She jabbed at the door bell again and snarled as it rang out into the silent house. She reared back and looked up at the house; the light in the window was still on. She waited for another endless minute and then flipped open her phone, she was Santana Lopez, no locked door was going to stop her, and she had the biggest Lima delinquent on speed dial.

She pressed 10 and waited.

"S'up babe?"

"Puck I need a favor…"

"It's a little late for phone sex but I'm up for it."

"God Puck no! Just no. Look I need to know how to get into Berry's house without getting arrested."

"Berry's house?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"It's important."

"…"

"Puck?"

"Look Santana, I know she can be irritating but you guys leaving her out of your girly glee gathering and then pranking her? Not cool."

"We aren't pulling a prank Puck, I swear."

"Well what's in it for me?"

"This isn't a fucking joke Puckerman! Tell me how to get in the fucking house!"

"Shit! Fine, look there is a key in the birdhouse."

Santana slammed the phone shut and whirled, spotting the birdhouse almost immediately. She lunged for it and accidently yanked it from its hook. It took her a few seconds to wrestle the key free and then jam it into the lock. The door swung open and for this first time Santana considered how crazy this was. If Rachel was asleep there would be hell to pay if Santana was discovered in the house. Quietly she crept forward.

Tentatively she announced her presence in the house, "Berry? It's Santana!" She winced at how her voice echoed through the silent house. She made her way to the foot of the staircase. Hopefully Rachel was just a very sound sleeper. If that was the case then Santana could check on the girl and then be out of the house before anyone was the wiser. She tiptoed up the stairs, wincing every time one of the steps creaked. She got to the second floor landing and observed the hallway. The lit doorway was on her left. She caught sight of the gold star adorning the doorway and smirked, at least Rachel made it easy for her. She pressed her ear against the door and listened, and then almost swallowed her tongue. She recognized the song playing in Rachel's room.

She opened the door and burst through it, not caring if she woke Rachel up. The room appeared empty. Santana ran a hand through her hair and had almost turned to leave when she caught sight of something on the bed.

A pill bottle.

Open.

Empty.

She picked it up.

Ambien… that was a sleeping pill. She looked at the date. Recently filled. Prescription of 60.

Quietly she whispered, "Rachel?"

She edged around the bed. There she was.

Rachel.

Face down.

* * *

Spanish

Escucha tu sueños porque en los sueños siempre óyemos la verdad – Listen to your dreams because in dreams we always hear the truth

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Please Read and Review. Thank you.


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